


Who is Coming?

by NightDivinerInTheShoppe



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Dying Moments, Foul Language, Heavy Angst, Mentions of Suicide, existential ideas?, feelings of hopelessness, no one is going to read this now, not for those who are easily disturbed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 15:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13321557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightDivinerInTheShoppe/pseuds/NightDivinerInTheShoppe
Summary: A detailed depiction of Sakuya's death as Tsubaki approaches him. I wrote this to understand Sakuya as a character and test my skills when it comes to writing from character point of view.





	Who is Coming?

Like most people, I have been on a couple of steep roller coasters. However, not one of them prepared my gut for a dread this sickening, my heart for an anxiety this overwhelming. Not one roller coaster ever prepared my throat for a yell this painful, my lungs for a breath this winded. My stomach was never prepared to churn this much with nausea as the numbing realization settled in - it was all over, the drop...and my life. 

Well, I suppose my life isn't over yet, by some phenomenon that would be considered miraculous if anyone cared to call an ambulance. Either way, my life has to end. Mom and dad need this. They need the money. I don't know what for, but it's gotta be something if it's worth this great of a sacrifice...

...as if my life ever meant that much to anyone.

All I can do is just lay here until death finally closes my eyes for me. Until then, my sight scales the building from which I have plummeted. I'm searching for my window, searching for the eyes of my parents - are they at least proud of me? Are they mourning? Hell, if they're going to lie to me, they could at least fake some kind of remorse in my passing.  
Damn it. I can't find the window; it is unrecognizable from down here. I wonder...am I unrecognizable as well? 

I try to move my head to check over my body, but the cough which shakes my broken ribs tells me that it is pointless to move. All in one piece or not, I'm going to die...or at least, I should. 

Damn. My parents really screwed up my logic, didn't they? In my twisted state of mind, I think I can even hear...footsteps approaching me. Are these the feet of a good Sumeritan, or are they of the embodiment of death? Please, let it be the last one. Everything hurts so bad, and every good Sumeritan has an alterior motive. Everyone in the vicinity fucking lies to young teenagers and throws their potential out the window, only to compensate for their own desires with the claim that "kids these days are killing themselves."  
The footsteps sound clearer and more melodic now, like a wooden staff tapping against a stone path on a rainy day. When did I get so poetic? I guess that's what delirium does to you, 'makes you a whimsical piece of shit who thinks he can hear someone coming...

...but who is coming, exactly?

My earlier efforts to lift my head proved that it was...what was the word my parents always used? "Futile?" 

I merely glance upward in front of me, as far as my eye sockets will allow. This slight movement triggers a tear to roll down my cheek. Funny, I didn't know I was crying.  
What I see is no surprise to me. Who else would it be, except my imaginary friend? Years ago, I conjured up a figure in traditional clothing to talk to me after my sister was taken. After all, I needed someone to understand me, someone I didn't have to lie to. I poured everything out to him.

He just stands there, smiling grimly at me. Behind him, the world is washed in crimson. I feel myself growing whoozy; I know what this means. Naturally, alarm courses through my stomach and my heart scolds me, like everyone else in my life. Don't die, Sakuya. Don't close your eyes. This isn't over. Try to stand up. Funny how my heart sounds exactly like my big sis. 

Another tear falls. There goes another one. Man, it's a thundershower up in here.

I don't want to die.

I don't want to die, okay?

Will I go to Hell if I close my eyes? Will it be eternal darkness? Will I walk as a spirit? Will I see my sister again..? Why does it have to be this way? Why did I give myself away so easily? I could have run, but no, I am a coward, a coward who makes up friends on his deathbed.  
His hand dips lower for me to take hold of.

Someone. Help me.

"I have come to help."


End file.
